A Better World
by 7RedCards
Summary: In a world where Silent Hill is monster-free, the Order is not evil, and Alessa, Cheryl, and Heather are separate women, everything seems to be rather normal. But even in a seemingly perfect world, Silent Hill still has its secrets... See my profile for my update schedule!
1. The Beginning

Leonard Wolf had only needed to take a single look at Dahlia Gillespie through his sitting room window to know that there was something wrong.

Although her daughter Alessa, who was all of six years old (seven in another month) held her hand and maintained a gentle, sweet smile, Dahlia had a solemn, even apprehensive expression on her steadily aging face.

She still looked young for her age of thirty-two, granted, and Leonard envied her that (not aloud, for that was one of the sins that God's Seven Guides warned against). He was going on forty-five now himself, and already had a receding hairline.

She was also carrying a small suitcase in her other hand, which she usually only did when she was leaving for a mission trip; there wouldn't be one for another two weeks.

Despite knowing that Dahlia was obviously there for a serious reason, Leonard decided it was best to act as if nothing was wrong. So he called for his daughter Claudia and then walked to his front door.

"Good evening, Dahlia!" He greeted her with a pleasant smile. She returned his smile, but it was forced.

"Good evening, Leonard. May we come in?" She requested quietly.

"Of course, of course." He stood aside to let them in just as Claudia came out of her room and smiled joyfully at Alessa. "Claudia, why don't you play with Alessa in your room while Miss Gillespie and I speak?"

"Yes, Father!" She grabbed Alessa's hand and pulled her giggling best friend into her room, shutting the door quietly. Leonard and Dahlia were both silent for a few moments. He turned to her. "Would you like to sit down?"

"No thank you." She responded, speaking almost silently. "I'll be taking my leave shortly." She was holding the suitcase so tightly that her knuckles were white. "Leonard, I am with child."

The implications of that set in immediately. Dahlia was not married; her husband had died shortly after Alessa turned one. Silent Hill, for all of it's steady decline in popularity, was still a resort town; they often had many visitors year round.

"Do you know who the father is?" The question was out of his mouth before he could think about it, and the harsh look he received nearly caused him to recoil.

"You'd best _pray_ that I forget you asked me that, Leonard Wolf." She warned.

"Yes ma'am," he responded, "I apologize." She nodded curtly.

"Good. To answer your question: yes, I know the father's identity." She had began to speak louder, but returned to a more hushed tone as she glanced at Claudia's bedroom door. "His name is Harry Mason."

"A _tourist,_ Dahlia?" He did know a Harry Mason, but only because he visited Silent Hill every year with his wife before she suddenly died years ago; he still made his annual visit, but only as a memorial to her.

"Yes, a _tourist._ " Dahlia hissed contemptuously. It was easy to forget that she had a temper when her character and morals were called into question. "I didn't just walk up to him and request we sleep together like some whore!"

"I hadn't suggested that." Leonard replied calmly. "Please, tell me what happened."

"I can't go into detail, I am ashamed as it is. I attempted to comfort him about his wife's passing, and invited him to our church. He denied, but wanted some company. So I stayed with him at his hotel room, and then before I knew it we were..." She sighed, her free hand now clutching her knee length mauve dress. "I never intended for it to happen."

"I believe you, Dahlia." Leonard said gently, with an assuring smile. Her hand relaxed, though it shook, and nodded.

"I have made correspondence with Harry Mason, and he has agreed to help me with birthing the child when the time comes, and to...to raise him or her on his own." At Leonard's stunned expression, she rushed to clarify. "Of course I will stay for the initial few weeks of caring for the newborn, but I must return here, and nobody must know."

"I..." Leonard sighed. "Of course, Dahlia. But what shall I tell the church?"

"That I've gone on a religious journey, to make peace with God before I pass on to Paradise."

 _'Before I pass'_? Why, Dahlia wasn't even forty yet! Unless...

"Dahlia, is there something else that I should know?" She looked puzzled, and then seemed to realize what she had said.

"No, no. As of now, it is unimportant. Will you care for Alessa while I am gone?"

"Of course." He agreed without hesitation. Dahlia nodded, and suddenly Leonard saw that she may have been thirty-two, but mentally she was far older.

 _She may not have as long of a life as I thought._

"And you understand who she is meant to become?"

"I understand."

"Good. Tell her goodbye for me, won't you? And Leonard...keep everything we've just discussed to yourself. Especially from the children."

"Of course," he agreed, "I'll do my best." Dahlia nodded, put down the suitcase (full of Alessa's belongings), and left the house. Leonard sat down onto his sofa and released a drawn out sigh. This wasn't going to be easy...

Dahlia prayed quietly to herself as she walked towards the edge of town, where Harry was waiting in his car.

"Lord," she began, "I know that I have committed a horrible sin. And I will henceforth commit an act even more horrible by abandoning my own child. But I beseech you...I beg you...to protect the lives of Harry Mason and my unborn child. Keep the two of them happy, and safe from harm.

"Please, also protect my beloved daughter, Alessa. She is to become a truly pure woman, who will carry on your work that you began so long ago. Protect her friend, Claudia, and Claudia's father, Leonard. Keep them all safe. Do not punish them for my sins, for they are mine alone to repent from." She could soon see the red taillights of Harry's car, and just for a moment they seemed to be demon's eyes through the mist; a demon sent to drag her to Hell for all that she had done, and would soon do.

She wouldn't return to Silent Hill until a year later.

Alessa and Claudia were playing Go Fish in Claudia's room at the same time that Dahlia and Harry left town.

"Where is your Mother going?" Claudia asked. "Do you have any 7s?"

"She told me she's going in a trip for God," Alessa replied, "but she wouldn't tell me where she was going on the trip. Go fish."

"Do you think she might be gone for awhile?"

"Yeah. She made me pack my clothes." Claudia looked at her friend with poorly hidden excitement. It was a somewhat rare treat for Alessa to stay overnight, but for longer than that? It had only happened once before, when Dahlia had been on a particularly long mission trip to Haiti.

Personally, Claudia had wanted to tag along. But that wasn't possible, given her age. Her sixth birthday, however, was just around the corner.

To her, the hardest part about wanting to help people was when you weren't able to do anything about that want, that crave, that _need_ to do so.

To Alessa, tthe hardest part about wanting to help people was knowing that every once in a while...some people were beyond your capacity to help.

To Leonard, the hardest part was knowing that people couldn't be helped if they didn't want it.

And to Dahlia? It was knowing that there were times when you would have to choose yourself over others, no matter the consequences.


	2. One Year Later

Raising Claudia and Alessa at the same time with little help wasn't easy, but Leonard was managing to do it without serious damage to his nerves.

Alessa and Claudia had turned eight and six ten and four months ago, respectively. Alessa had been a little sad that Dahlia wasn't there, but Claudia was overjoyed to have her friend with her. She especially loved the card Alessa had gotten her.

 _'To little Claudia. Happy 6th birthday! I love you as if you were my real sister. Here's to you!'_

Claudia had promised to keep it forever, and Alessa was thrilled.

But it was clear to all familiar with the town and its inhabitants (especially those in the church) that Alessa missed her mother dearly; all of her prayers were for Dahlia to return safe.

Which Leonard was less and less sure of. It was getting increasingly hard to hold onto the lie he was telling for Dahlia. She'd only given him the very barebones of the tale, and he was positive that at least a few of their fellow church goers found that suspicious.

But they had no other likely theories that wouldn't be immediately shamed as slander, so they said nothing. Which was for the best. Upsetting Alessa would earn them a particularly unmerciful set of tasks for repentance during confession.

Alessa, a child, was spoken of and looked upon with reverence as the news of who she was suspected to become spread like wildfire throughout the church.

She, of course, was blissfully ignorant of what everyone was saying. After all, her mother had taught her not to listen to the whisperings of others.

"If they are whispering in your presence," Dahlia had said, "then what they are saying shouldn't concern you, for it's not something worth speaking aloud."

That had backfired at least once in Alessa's lifetime, but that was because if she had something rude to say about a person, she let them know it. Wasn't it their business if she had a problem with them?

Leonard was trying to get her out of that habit.

 _All in due time,_ he thought as he escorted his daughter and Alessa to church. _All in due time..._

Dahlia and Harry's daughter was four months old now, and already had the same thick, dark hair as Alessa. In fact, the resemblance would've been uncanny if not for a few differing features. She had her father's small, straight nose and blue eyes rather than the dark eyes Alessa shared with her mother.

She was beautiful...but also a constant reminder of Dahlia's sin.

She wasn't angry, however. Not with herself, not with Harry, and certainly not with Cheryl.

Cheryl...it was by no means a bad name. In fact, it was a beautiful name, but it hadn't been Dahlia's idea. It was the name Harry and his wife Jodie were going to name their first daughter.

'First daughter' was exactly how Harry had worded his explanation of the name choice.

Perhaps it had been unintentional, but it only brought a simple fact to Dahlia's attention that would be especially complicated.

Harry didn't want her to leave.

Dahlia had made their arrangement perfectly clear, and Harry had agreed. But she'd known since he did so that he wasn't happy with it.

In fact (to her discomfort), Harry often went out of his way to guilt trip her once Cheryl was born.

He'd even offered to take her back to Silent Hill to pick up Alessa, and they could all live together.

"We don't even have to get married," Harry had claimed, "we could make it work."

It was an undeniably tempting offer, Dahlia admitted without hesitation. But what about the Order? What would they do when they discovered the truth? Or when Alessa was taken? And what about Claudia? The poor girl would be heartbroken.

So Dahlia always refused the offer when it was brought up, and she always did it in a patient, respectful manner.

Eventually, Harry learned that no amount of pushing would convince Dahlia, and he stopped bringing it up.

Of course, Cheryl took no notice of these events. Even for an infant, she was blissfully happy.

"I'll be leaving in a month," Dahlia announced as she bottle fed Cheryl, who looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, probably wondering what her mother was saying, or what it meant. Harry, who had been watching Cheryl as if she might disappear if he didn't, looked up at Dahlia.

"...if you must, you must," he replied. He sounded resigned to it, but she knew that he was still disappointed and melancholy. Honestly, she couldn't blame him. After all this time, leaving Cheryl was going to be even harder than she thought. But she missed Alessa. She missed church. She missed Silent Hill.

So neither of them said any more about it...at least until the night she left.

They had already put Cheryl to sleep in her crib, and Dahlia was debating whether or not she should pack a suitcase. She'd come here with nothing but the clothes on her back, but had to let Harry buy her other clothes (she had felt bad for it, but would only wear dresses, and the longest that was common in this decade was knee-length. She felt rather exposed, but learned to live with it) and necessities.

Just as she decided that she shouldn't, given she was wearing the same ankle length mauve dress she'd worn when she dropped Alessa off and the ones Harry bought her weren't conservative enough, Harry stepped into the room.

"Should I drop you off at the same place we met?" He asked. She nodded, thinking it best that she not speak. "Alright. When will you be ready to leave?"

"Right now," she responded. Harry looked a little surprised, but then he nodded.

"Okay. You can hold Cheryl while I drive you back."

About two hours of driving later, they were almost at Silent Hill. Unlike the night that they left, the sky and area around them was clear. So they saw the odd orange light and smoke in the distance perfectly.

"Dahlia, I think that's a fire..." Harry said with growing alarm. Dahlia clutched the still sleeping Cheryl a bit more tightly.

"That's the church..." She whispered. Harry immediately drove faster, but once they reached the sign welcoming them to the town, Dahlia ordered him to stop. When he did, she gave him Cheryl and got out of the car. "Go home, Harry!" Then she shut the door and ran towards the smoke while all Harry could do was watch her leave.


	3. Miraculous

Looking back the next morning, Claudia had realized that the fire was neither her nor Alessa's fault. The only candles in the church near anything flammable were the ones standing on the podium, and neither of them had been near it.

Why had they been in the church again? She couldn't remember...but it didn't matter now, did it? After all, the two of them were alive.

Alessa was hurt though.

She could remember the ambulance taking her away when they both got out.

No...

Claudia got out before Alessa. She'd been sure that her best friend was right behind her the whole time, but then she'd turned and Alessa hadn't been there.

Then she saw a woman...Alessa's mom...run inside of the building.

She must've fallen asleep or passed out after that, because she couldn't remember anything else no matter how hard she tried.

"Claudia, are you okay?" Her father asked her gently. She looked up at him quickly.

"Yes, father." She replied quietly, eating her oatmeal (which had began to get cold) without another word.

She'd be thinking about the fire and what may have started it for a long time.

And about how lucky her best friend had been to have survived.

Of course, the rest of the town didn't see it as luck. They saw it as a sign.

* * *

 _It hurts._

That was Alessa's first thought upon waking up.

 _My whole body hurts._

Where was she? Why did she feel so cold?

 _What happened?_

She slowly opened her eyes, and the first thing she realized was that it was nighttime. Or...maybe she was just in a room with the lights off.

She wasn't at home. That hit her like the Titanic hit the iceberg.

For one thing, her home smelled like the potpourri her mom kept in most of the rooms. But wherever she was now, it smelled like...well, like cleaning supplies. What was that brand...Clorox? Yes, that was it! It smelled like bleach! But, why would a room smell like that?

The bed she was in sat at an incline, so she was partially sitting up. The mattress was thin, and the blankets a bit itchy. Probably wool?

there was something over her mouth. It was plastic, and blew cool air gently. An oxygen mask.

 _I'm in a hospital._

She was too sore to turn her head, so she had to settle with observing whatever was in eyesight. A clock on the wall read 11:15. A small TV in the corner, but it was off. The bathroom door was closed, but she could see that the light was om from beneath the door.

The knob turned, and the door opened. Alessa didn't know why, but she pretended to still be asleep. The door shut seconds later, and she heard someone sit down in what might've been a chair by the bed with a shaky sigh. Was it her mom?

"I'm so sorry, Alessa..." Her mom's voice whispered, sounding choked up. Was her mom crying? She'd never seen her do that before. "My sweet baby...I should have come back sooner..."

 _Don't be sad, Mother..._ _it wasn't your fault..._

But...whose fault _was_ it? She couldn't even remember why she and Claudia had been in the church so late at night. Had...someone told them to go in it?

No, no, that wasn't it. Where had they been before they saw that a fire had started?

 _'Stop giggling, Claudia! Confession is very serious!'_

 _'I'm sorry, it's just...' More giggling. 'You sound so much like your mother!'_

They were at the confession booth, practicing. Practicing for what, though?

Just trying to remember it made her head hurt. She finally gave up and just tried to fall back to sleep.

* * *

It was nothing short of miraculous.

That's what the nurse said.

Lisa Garland was a kind, gorgeous young woman, new to the medical field.

But her surprise and shock at what happened was entirely warranted.

Everyone was stumped.

Alessa had no burns. No injuries of any kind.

Overnight, they had just disappeared. She was as healthy as she would've been if the fire had never happened.

The official police report and medical examination stated that during the fire, she'd been trapped when a ceiling beam fell. It had hit her shoulder, breaking it, and she'd collapsed by the podium, where the fire was started. Apparently, the two had lit a candelabra and set it on the altar just behind the podium, near the drapes (Lisa noted with interest that Claudia Wolf denied this, but it was made the official cause anyway). At some point, it caught the drapes, and the fire quickly spread. Alessa had been unfortunate enough to have fallen into the flames. She'd been like that for only about thirty seconds before her mother dashed in and pulled her out, but by then her torso and face were heavily scarred with third degree burns.

And now, the very next day, they were just gone.

Doctor Kaufman was puzzled at best and utterly dumbfounded at worst. Everyone was...except the Order.

There had already been rumors, many of them, as Alessa grew older. But that's all that they were: rumors.

Until now. To them, this was just confirmation of who she was meant to be.

Neither Leonard nor Dahlia liked it one bit.

She had loved him, and Leonard had been his close friend, but both thought that before he died, Joshua Gillespie had been a little less than right in the head.

The Order called it Prophetic Visions. The hospital called it Schizophrenia. So his claims of he and Dahlia creating the mother and daughter of God could be explained away.

But only The Order could explain Alessa's spontaneous healing. And the rumors would spread faster than the fire in the church.

All the while, the culprit could rest easy. Nobody suspected a thing.

* * *

Two weeks later, everything seemed to be back to normal. Alessa was living with her mother again, and they attended church (now held in the courtyard of the hospital, at the request of many patients) as regularly as they always did.

As she always had before, Dahlia made sure no word of what people were saying reached Alessa, although it was significantly more difficult now.

She couldn't protest, however, when Michael Winston suggested that Alessa lead the recitation of the Seven Guides, and the Lord's Prayer.

Alessa looked nervous as she stepped up to the makeshift podium (just a footstool, really), and her voice trembled a little.

"Be not envious, for those with envy cannot love what they have," She began, her voice slowly losing its timidness. "Be not greedy, for those with greed are never satisfied."

A hush had fallen throughout the courtyard as Alessa began to speak loudly and clearly, her voice strong and her tone solemn.

"Be not prideful," she continued, "for those with pride know not of humility. Be not gluttonous, for those with gluttony have nothing of true value. Be not..."

She'd hesitated, but it was because the word bothered her. She quickly recovered and kept going.

"Be not lustful, for those with lust can't learn to love. Be not lazy, for those with sloth solve nothing. Be not wrathful, for those with wrath cannot forgive." Her eyes immediately went to Dahlia, who nodded in approval and made a motion for her to go on. "I...I ask that all who are present bow their heads for the Lord's Prayer."

"She's doing perfectly." Leonard whispered to Dahlia. She nodded with a smile before bowing her head and praying with her daughter.

"Our loving Mother, creator of Paradise, beloved by all, we pray to you. Return to us, and with all of your love for us and with all of your power, lead us to Paradise. May Valtiel assist you on your path to resurrection, may Metatron protect you from the blasphemers and the heretics, and may Samael begin the cleansing of the world for you to remake. And we pray that your mother and daughter, Saint Alessa, gives us guidance and prepares us for your return. Amen."

"Amen," everyone echoed quietly, awestruck. Alessa had said nothing new, had done nothing incorrectly. And yet the entirety of the courtyard was enraptured by her in a way they had never been before.

"Father..." Claudia whispered to Leonard, "is Alessa going to birth God...?" The question surprised him, but he was too amazed to be angry that someone had told his daughter the rumors about her best friend.

"I...I don't know, Claudia..." Was his quiet, and truthful, response.

But as he watched little Alessa return to her mother's side with eyes full of joy and a beautiful smile, he felt his doubts in the rumors beginning to wither away.


	4. Playing God

**Seven Years Later**

"Happy Birthday to you..." Cheryl sang softly to her newborn sister as she stared at her tiny sleeping form from the other side of the glass. "Happy birthday to you...happy birthday dear Heather...happy birthday to you..." Although she probably couldn't hear her (and wouldn't be able to understand her anyway), Heather opened her eyes and smiled when she saw Cheryl, her hazel-brown eyes (just like her mother's) lighting up. Cheryl smiled back, then looked up as her father approached. "Hi Daddy! Heather's awake!" Her father gave her a tired smile and nodded as he took a look at the newest addition to their family.

"She's a cute little one, isn't she?" He said, his smile growing a bit and making him look much younger. He was close to turning 33, but that smiled brought it down by a good ten years. That might've been one of the reasons Heather's mother had fallen in love with him.

"I love her already..." Cheryl replied as an agreement. "When is Amy coming out to see her?"

"She should be ready soon, but..." They both looked up as a doctor and two nurses rushed past them into the room Harry had just emerged from.

"What's going on, Daddy?" Cheryl asked as her father began to walk quickly to the room.

"Just stay with your sister, Cheryl!" Harry called back as he began to run to the doorway. His daughter watched him, puzzled, then returned her attention to her little sister and smiled.

"I can't wait to take you home..." She said softly. "Me, you, Daddy, and Amy..."

* * *

It had just been a dare, that's all. Vincent had challenged her, and Alessa was nothing if not a risk-taker. She knew that scared Claudia, but it was also fun to try to test the limits of what she was able to get away with. A little bratty maybe, but Alessa was doing it so that she at least knew there was a boundary.

Besides, what she was about to do wasn't that bad. Sneak into the confession booth, sneak back out, and done. Easy.

Okay, so sneaking into _the confession booth_ was far from being saintly, but it wasn't like she was hurting anybody. And if she was caught...well, so what? At least then she'd definitely know that The Order wouldn't let her get away with everything. Her mother certainly wouldn't stand for it.

On the other hand, Dahlia had been really tired all of the time lately. Not too tired to neglect making sure Alessa was reading and studying regularly, though. She and Claudia had recently done research on Christian Science and immediately decided that it sounded horrible. She couldn't imagine living a life like that. It was dangerous in the best possible scenario.

"Are you going to go do it or not?" Vincent whispered to her. Alessa shook away her thoughts and looked up to make sure everyone in the newly rebuilt church was gone. She then nodded and quickly made her way to the confession booth, slipping into where the pastor would usually enter.

Well, she was in. Now she had to stay in there for just a minute. She looked around as she sat on the bench thing that jutted from the wall for her to sit on, gently running the soft, velvety red curtains between her thumb and index finger. She peered through the small space in the wall, then jerked away and slid out of sight as she saw the knob turn. She was hoping that it might be Claudia or Vincent...but she knew that voice even through the sobs. It was her mother. After about two seconds of debate, she decided to just stay silent and listen.

"Dear Lord..." Dahlia began in a whisper that Alessa struggled to understand, "I know...I think I've always known...that nothing less than my very soul being taken away would be good enough repentance for what I did. It haunts me to this very day. I have not yet told my daughter...my sweet Alessa...that I..."

The rest was lost as her mother broke down into heart wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. Alessa felt the color drain from her face as she witnessed Dahlia break down in a way she could never have imagined. Just what had Dahlia done...?

"I swear to you, Lord...that I will tell her of what I did seven years ago...I only pray that you let no harm befall my little girl when I am gone." Dahlia's words were no longer comprehensible through her gasping and shaky sobs. "Please forgive me, God...and allow me to continue to repent within Purgatory...I beg you..."

Alessa heard this, and she knew that she had to say something. Her mother was clearly heartbroken, and afraid. She didn't deserve to suffer like that, no matter what she'd done. So Alessa took a deep breath, lowered her head, and spoke.

" _I forgive you_ ," she whispered softly. And maybe she was meant to say that. Maybe she had the right to. Or...maybe she shouldn't have tried to play God, however unintentionally. If she hadn't, maybe things would've turned out differently.

But for now, she nearly sighed in relief as her mother's sobs slowly abated into shaky, rasping breaths.

"Thank you, Lord..." Alessa was quiet until her mother slowly stood and left the booth, and still didn't release her held breath until Dahlia's footsteps were no longer within earshot. She stepped quietly out of the booth to see Claudia and Vincent standing nearby, watching her with conflicting emotions on their faces; Claudia looked amazed and confused, Vincent doubtful yet in awe.

"That...that was you?" The latter asked softly, and the quiet shock in his voice stopped her from responding with a sarcastic retort. She'd never heard or seen him act and speak this way. She looked at Claudia for an answer, and the younger girl shook her head.

"We thought someone else was in there with you...that...that didn't sound like you in there..." She whispered. Now Alessa was just puzzled. All she'd done was whisper...although, thinking about it now, she began to wonder how her mother didn't know it was her immediately. Or...maybe her mother _did_ know?

No, no way. She'd have been in a world of trouble right away. So...why hadn't any of them recognized her voice? Just as she was about to speak, she heard the door to the church begin to open.

"Is anyone in here?" She heard Leonard call out sternly. Alessa pushed her friends against the wall and stepped out in view of the man. He sighed when he saw her.

"Alessa, you know better. And you left a lantern on." She looked at the altar nearby and saw that he was right. Since the church was rebuilt, they all began to use metal lanterns as opposed to candles as an extra safety measure. It still wouldn't stop a fire if it were knocked over...but the lanterns were surprisingly heavy, so doing that would be more difficult. She nodded and extinguished the flame.

"Sorry, Mr. Wolf," she said sheepishly, "I forgot." Leonard just hummed, staring at her for the longest few seconds of Alessa's life thus far.

"Have you seen Claudia? If she's not with you, I need to find her. I don't want her spending too much time with that Vincent boy." Alessa looked at Leonard with a frown she hoped didn't look too defensive.

"What's wrong with Vincent?" Leonard shook his head.

"Nothing...well, not nothing, he..." The man sighed. "He's a fine boy, Alessa, and I know you care for him. But he's in a family of heretics, and-"

"The word is _agnostics,_ Mr. Wolf," she corrected, "and with all due respect, it seems to me that this church is trying to impose our beliefs on _him,_ not the other way around." His momentarily irritated expression made her think she might've gone too far, but then it relaxed and he offered a bemused smile.

"I'll never understand your ways, Alessa." At the teen's confused look, he elaborated. "You're one of the most devoted to this church, and yet you find it in your heart to treat even unbelievers with kindness."

"Well, why shouldn't I? They're people, the same as you or me."

"No...no, not _quite_ the same as you. Me, perhaps...but not you." And he left, closing the door behind him and leaving her to ponder over what that meant until Vincent approached her with a quiet 'thank you'. She looked at him, surprised, but then he walked past her to the door that led to the Amusement park, rather than through the front door. He always used that way, and he never told them why. They always thought it was because he lived near the amusement park, at the very end of Nathan Avenue...but there seemed to be a bit more to it than that.

"Alessa...?" Claudia's voice broke her train of thought.

"Yes?" She smiled at her best friend.

"I think I'll go that way too, so my father doesn't see..." Alessa's smile grew into a grin.

"You just want to go to the park." Claudia grinned back and shrugged. "I'll go with you, then." She took her friend's hand and they both went after Vincent.

 **Author's Note: This was a shorter chapter than usual, but I needed to upload it quickly since I've been really busy this week and will be tomorrow too. Don't forget to review, and I hope all of you fellow high schoolers are having a fantastic summer break!**


	5. Blasphemy

**Author's Note: It'll probably be really obvious when you all read this, but I did this all in a day XD I procrastinated all week, then got most of a chapter done and realized that I have** ** _not_** **developed the characters enough yet. So here we are! Enjoy (hopefully)!**

Her daddy kept telling her to be careful, that Heather was going to get sick more easily without Amy there to feed her. Cheryl didn't know why this was, but didn't need to know. She needed to be extra careful not to let Heather get sick when taking care of her. She didn't know how to change a diaper or make her food yet, but she liked to just sit down on her bed or the sofa and hold her cute little sister.

Heather was a quiet, sweet baby. She almost never cried. Cheryl was worried about that. Weren't babies supposed to cry a lot?

Sometimes she could hear her daddy crying in his room, with the door shut and locked. If Cheryl knocked on it, her daddy would take a few minutes to come out, and his eyes were always red. She tried to ignore that, never asking or talking about it to him. She knew he was sad about Amy; so was she. To be fair to her daddy, she cried sometimes too. Amy was the closest thing to a mom that Cheryl ever had, and losing her broke her heart too.

Heather was the only one that never cried. Cheryl thought it was funny, in a way, that a baby cry the least in a family.

* * *

Alessa wanted to ask her mother what the confession had been about. But how could she bring it up without revealing that she'd been inside the booth? Or that she had _played God_ just to make her feel better? She asked Claudia and Vincent about it the next day after school, but the two had very...polarizing ideas about what she should do.

On one hand, there was Claudia's side of it. She insisted that if it were really that important, Dahlia would tell her eventually. Confronting her about it when she wasn't prepared to discuss it would only hurt them both.

And then there was Vincent. He thought that, if anything, Dahlia should be _grateful_ that she had a daughter that cared so much about her, and that if she got angry about Alessa speaking to her in the booth, that was her problem. He also claimed that if Alessa outright asked her about it, she might surprise her mother into giving a much more specific answer.

"I need to hang out with more people besides you two." Alessa muttered. "I feel like I'm speaking with my shoulder angel and shoulder demon." Vincent laughed a little.

"As far as dear old Mr. Wolf is concerned, I might as well be a demon." Claudia went silent and stared down at her feet as they walked. "Relax, Claudia, I'm not mad about it. If he doesn't like me just because I'm not a God fearing man or whatever, that's his problem, not mine."

"It's not that, I just...I don't think that Father is doing so well..." She said quietly. Alessa and Vincent looked at her.

"Why?" The former asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"He just...forgets things sometimes. Or he starts acting weird." She shook her head. "Never mind. I'm sure it's nothing." Alessa and Vincent shared a look of concern, but they dropped the subject.

"Sometimes I hear people at church talking about training you for something." Claudia said after a minute, looking at her best friend. Alessa raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"'Training me for something'?" She repeated. "What on Earth would they want to train me for?"

"They think you're Mary, so to speak." Vincent answered.

"As in...the Virgin Mary? From the Christian Bible?" Alessa asked. Vincent nodded. "Why would they...?" Then she thought of the church fire, all those years ago. She didn't remember much about it. Just that she'd been in a lot of pain, and then none at all in the morning. That sweet nurse, Lisa, came inside the room and just stared at her for awhile before calling the doctor into the room as well. He'd been just as shocked. At the time, she'd just rationalized it as her burns looking worse than they were. But...even if that were the case, healing _overnight_ was just impossible. "They think I'm _Saint Alessa_?"

"It's...not that farfetched..." Claudia murmured. "Healing so quickly, and having such a talent for prayer when you'd never done it before...and then during your mother's confession..."

"I admit that I can't explain the burns," Vincent interrupted, "but there have always been people with a penchant for publicly speaking. And there doesn't have to be anything _holy_ about wanting your mother to be happy."

"Cut it out, Vincent," Alessa said, "I'm thinking." After a moment of mulling it over, she sighed. " _If_ they want me to lead the church as Saint Alessa, I suppose I can't refuse. I doubt that I will actually birth God for Her second arrival, but I can't deny that all of those things are rather...difficult to explain."

"You can't be serious." Vincent said flatly. "The whole idea is ridiculous."

"My hands are sort of tied here, Vincent." Alessa whispered harshly as they passed by the church, as if the building itself might hear her and become angry. "If I accept, everyone will be happy. I could go my entire life without birthing God, and they will be patient enough until my death or theirs to wait for it. If I refuse..."

"They'll label her a blasphemer." Claudia finished. "They might ban her and her mother from the church."

"And you all seem unable to figure out why I dislike religion."

"Don't start with that." Alessa laughed, then stood up straight, hands on hips, and made her voice as imposing as possible. "Vincent Smith! I, Saint Alessa, mother of God, daughter of God, patron of The Order, declare you guilty of one of the deepest of sins: _blasphemy_!" She declared dramatically. Vincent was giving her a look that made it clear how little sanity he thought she had, but he was grinning. Behind her, Claudia was hiding a giggle behind a hand. "I sentence you to the very Flames of Redemption in Purgatory! Repent your sins, and may God have _mercy on your soul_!" She made voice waver at the last few words, like someone telling a goofy ghost story. The three of them burst into laughter until Claudia looked behind them and let out a surprised, fearful little yelp. Vincent and Alessa looked back towards the church, where Michael Winston stared at them with a sour expression on his face. "...I vote we run."

"Me too." Claudia and Vincent spoke simultaneously as the three children sped off towards their houses. Michael Winston shook his head as he watched them go, the sourness curdling into outright indignation. That Smith boy was far too bad of an influence on those young girls...something had to be done.


	6. To His Grave

**Author's Note: This chapter does contain a time skip, but it's important for what's going to happen. Enjoy!**

 **Five Years Later**

"See anything that you want, Heather?" Cheryl asked with a smile as they walked down the bakery's cake aisle. As per usual, she was wordless while she peered at each of the cakes they had on offer. They'd been worried for awhile that something was wrong with her, that she might never talk at all. But that wasn't really a problem; she just didn't speak much. When she did, she was quiet but otherwise sounded normal...for a five-year-old, anyway.

"Nothing blue..." Heather finally said. Cheryl frowned and walked down the aisle again. The blue cake she'd seen two days ago must've been bought already.

"Darn it..." She whispered, then sighed and looked at her sister. "Well, how about something red? You like red, don't you?" Heather looked unsure before nodding after a few seconds of consideration. "I'll look for a red cake then." She looked around for Harry. "Dad, could you...?" She didn't see him anywhere. "...Dad?" She sighed and shifted Heather to her other side (a laboriously slow process; Heather wasn't that heavy, but Cheryl wasn't that strong either), walking further down the aisle to search for him. If he walked away without her, that usually meant one of two things: he spaced out (a pretty common occurrence), or he found something/someone that would help with his writing. It was their only source of income, after all. Since he was already pretty well-known, they got quite a bit a month; she didn't know how much (her dad told her she was too young to worry about it), but it had to be quite a bit if they had the money to go shopping once a week although, admittedly, it was usually to get something for Heather. Not that she was jealous or anything, she loved to spoil her sister, but she was also a little afraid Heather would get a little rotten.

Her father wasn't really much of a help. He'd been lethargic lately, and she was pretty sure he was staying awake until early in the morning, clicking away at his typewriter. She could see the bags under his eyes every morning. She actually tried to bring it up at breakfast the other day, but he'd just tried to turn it into a bad joke she couldn't remember, but had laughed at. So she just let it drop.

Okay, she'd walked down every aisle now and still couldn't find him. Heather was getting a little antsy, trying to squirm out of her sister's grip. Cheryl adjusted her to be a little more comfortable, then walked out to the parking lot. "Dad!" She called out. "Where'd you go?" There was his car, but no sign of him. She shook her head and looked at Heather. "Did you see where he went, Heather?" Heather was staring past her with an odd look on her face. Cheryl frowned and looked over towards whatever Heather was staring at.

He was wearing all black, with a hood over his head and sunglasses. She could only really tell his gender by how large he was, and the dark brown, unkempt beard he had. He was by a big black SUV, leaning against it and staring at them. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and although she didn't want to, she looked at Heather again. "Did he do something, Heather?" Heather nodded, still staring at the man. "Show me." Heather looked up at her and gave her that grin toddlers sometimes had that looked more like they were baring their teeth, and even if it wasn't what he'd really looked like, it was all too easy to imagine him doing it. Then Heather's head snapped over to where the man was, and now she looked scared. Cheryl looked over...

And screamed.

* * *

Harry had wandered over the opposite way that Cheryl had gone to look for him. The man behind the counter at the deli a few yards away looked perfect for getting an opinion for the subject of his new book. He'd only be a couple of minutes at most...but he ended up wrapped in conversation with the man for a few minutes, because he was on break just then and wasn't that lucky, now he could have a full-scale interview rather than a simple opinion.

They were just wrapping it up when they heard the scream, and it felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart with an icicle. He was out of his seat and out into the parking lot in seconds, nearly shoving a few people out of the way. "CHERYL!" He yelled as he burst out of the doors and looked around wildly for his daughters. He saw the man first, gripping Cheryl's wrist tightly as he dragged her towards a black SUV. He was too large for Harry to take on, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. He ran to the man and, thinking quickly, landed a solid kick at the back of his leg. The man grunted as he sunk to one knee, releasing Cheryl and Heather. Harry barely registered hearing something heavy hit the ground as he yelled to his daughter. " _Run, Cheryl!_ " She didn't need to be told twice. She made a beeline straight for the store, holding a sobbing Heather tightly. Harry watched her, then turned around just in time to see the man's fist swinging at his face.

Pain exploded in his head, and he was on the ground before he even knew where he'd been hit. His vision was dark, and everything felt like it was spinning. Somewhere in the back of his head, he thought of the birds that flew around cartoon characters' heads when they were given a similar injury.

Slapstick was a lot more funny when it wasn't in real life.

But it was there, dazed on the ground, that he realized what had hit the ground when he kicked the man: _a gun._ But just as he was starting to get back up, the man had him pinned down with the gun in his hand. Fear seized Harry's heart, but through it all came one thought, louder and stronger than the others.

 _I'm not dying today._

That filled him with strength he wasn't sure he had anymore, grabbing the muzzle of the gun and forcing it away from him slowly. The man was strong, but Harry had pure panic and adrenaline coursing through him like waves of heat, and then he managed to let go with one hand long enough to hit the man solidly in the temple. He swore loudly, and the weight was off of Harry a moment later. He scrambled away and to his feet, pointing the gun at the man. "Don't move!"

* * *

Cheryl watched from the store's large glass front as her father pointed the gun at the man that grabbed her. She could see her dad's face, but the man had his back to them. They seemed to be talking. At least, her dad was. Someone had already called the police when she'd ran inside, and now it was only a matter of time before they got there. She just hoped that-

 _ **BAM!**_

And then all was silent as the man fell over, with her father staring in horror.

* * *

Everyone had a different account of what happened.

Some claimed that her father was threatening the man, and then shot him when the man must've said something to provoke him.

Others were sure that they'd seen the man start to get up before Harry fired in panic.

All Cheryl could think was that she wished she and Heather hadn't had to see it.

The whole town knew the aftermath: the man was dead, and a judge declared justifiable self defense on behalf of himself and his daughters.

But only Harry knew what had happened that caused him to pull the trigger.

And it was a secret he would take to his grave.


	7. UPDATES (To Be Deleted When Updated)

**A/N: Hello everyone! It's been awhile, but I'm happy to announce that I'm working on the final four chapters of The Blood Wraith, and will release them in bulk when I'm done!**

 **Afterwards, I'll be focusing solely on A Better World until it's finished before I work on anything else.**

 **Thank you all so much for sticking with me despite my crappy schedule and inconsistency.**

 **See "UPDATE SCHEDULE" on my profile for a bit more information!**


	8. Official Goodbye

**It's been five long years since I joined this site, and I can't begin to describe how much it helped me. It was my escape from the worst time (emotionally and mentally) of my life. It was my outlet for letting myself be who I was when I was just accepting that I was gay, and allowed me to make a (disgustingly Mary Sue) character that was open when I wasn't. I think I projected a character in my first story having such a bad temper and being so emotionally abusive (let's admit it, he was) from my family, who often said things of the same caliber to me whenever I screwed up or whenever they just weren't having a great day. I made the character's siblings probably a bit** ** _too_** **nice because that was what I wanted in siblings.**

 **But I always had a flaw, and that was that I had a lot of ideas that were half-baked. Well, to be more accurate, they were put in the microwave for about ten seconds and then served. I rarely ever knew where a story was going, and almost never even had an ending planned. I think my writing suffered (and still suffers) a lot from that. But The Blood Wraith (probably my pride and joy as far as my writing goes, and even then I recognize its flaws, especially early on) probably ended on the strongest note in the history of all my stories in that it was both one of the few that** ** _had_** **an ending, and that I actually managed to plan most of it out, which helped the ending both make sense and leave no loose ends that can't be answered by its sequel.**

 **But finally, what I'm building up to with this speech: I'm permanently leaving FanFiction. It's been some of the best times I've had here, but it's time to move on.**

 **I'll still be writing, as I'm just moving to AO3, but unfortunately I won't be taking any stories other than The Blood Wraith with me. I won't be deleting what's left of my writings, but only so that others will be able to see this and find my account if they want. I'll leave a link here to my account, and then I'll be exporting The Blood Wraith there. I've also made a resolution to plan out stories chapter by chapter instead of going on the fly with them.**

 **Thanks to everyone who has stayed with me (I honestly doubt there are many, if** ** _any,_** **of you left), and to all of the friends that I made through here (especially my unofficial co-author that kicked my lazy ass into finishing Blood Wraith and had a hand in the final chapter).**

 **Goodbye =)**

sptth: / / archive of our own gro./ users/Red7s/profile (without the spaces and with sptth and gro. reversed of course).


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